


Defining Perfection

by workerBee



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beforus, Beforus Ancestors, M/M, Non-Sgrub AU, non-game au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-01-13 09:50:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1221763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/workerBee/pseuds/workerBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perfection [pəˈfɛkʃ(ə)n]. Noun.<br/>1. the state or quality of being perfect.<br/>2. a person or thing considered to be perfect.<br/>3. the action or process of improving something until it is faultless.</p><p>"Beforus is perfect.<br/>Beforus has everything we need.<br/>Beforus is the best place to live in.<br/>Beforus is clean, exempt of violence, hatred, or discrimination."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Art of Taking In a Wriggler

    Your name is Eridan Ampora, but you are most commonly known as the Orphaner, which is quite an inaccurate title. While you do make orphans, they do not stay so for long. Beforus's policy on lusus killing is very strict. No wriggler that has been chosen by a lusus should be left to die; natural selection has deemed them worthy to be part of troll society. Therefore, for every lusus you kill, another young grub joins your little posse of small, silent companions. You like the company of grubs and toddlers. The wrigglers do not bother you much. They mostly crawl around and sometimes try to bite at your cape. Often enough they will fearlessly ascend the immensity that represents your body in order to occupy your shoulders, then observe as you work. You must fill files for each grub that joins your group, and update them regularly to take note of their evolution, until they are old enough for you to leave them to the care of another imperial worker.

  
    The pupated toddlers are a bit different, and require more care. You need to teach them to speak, as this is a process normally created by natural socialization often induced by the lusii, and you also have to teach them the basics of life, for example teaching them how to use the toilet, how to climb into a recuperacoon, etcetera. You continue this process until the young troll is at least one or two sweeps old. At this age you bring them to the jade workers who will raise them in your place.  
    You are quite a busy man. Outside of the killing itself, which is already a big job, you have to feed the grubs, wash them, ensure that they get enough sleep, that they are not sick. You must take notice of any abnormality, may it be physical or mental, and if needed report those to the imperial grub culling service in case they need to be culled. It does not happen often, fortunately, but if one of your grubs does need a cull, you will have to face Terezi Pyrope, the culling lawyer.

  
    She's a _pain_.

  
    Pyrope has been force-culled as a wriggler, and you're almost sure this is the reason she is so intent on proving you wrong when you show how disabled one of the grubs is. She definitely is anti-culling, and you don't think you know anyone as hard to deal with as her. Every time you try to prove how difficult it would be for the young to survive efficiently without imperial help, she will bring in her own example - how she successfully overcome her blindness and lead an impressive career even with her disability - and will go as low as to fake being offended to prove that you are completely unable to decide who is or isn't disabled. The only way to counteract her I-am-blind-and-I-made-it argument is reminding her that she was greatly helped in her struggle by her lusus, and that your grubs do not have lusii.

  
    And if you do that, it will be another reason for her to call you "ableist". She knows the judges will listen to that argument. They _always_ do. She is infuriating.

  
    But fortunately enough, you do not deal with her more than once or twice in a sweep. The rest of the time, you are mostly alone with the wrigglers. Mostly - you also suffer the frequent visits of Sollux Captor.

  
    Of course, you cannot really complain about him. He is the Empress's archiver, therefore he does have to collect and check your paperwork. It's his job. And he is not of such unpleasant company either, even if he is not as appreciable as the grubs and their silent, affective company; the constant security of knowing that they unconditionally like you. You don't know if Captor likes you, and it's a bit stressful.

  
    He really doesn't seem to be the type of troll who shows off his emotions at all. He tends to be slightly sarcastic, which annoys you, and is otherwise quite silent and discreet. He greets you with a few words, does his work, and bids you a good night, and leaves, leaving behind nothing but a faint smell of body odor and your loneliness.

  
    You do not complain about being lonely. Why would you? You like it. You were always a loner. But somehow every time Captor leaves your office, you feel slightly disgruntled, as if you had opened a jar you were sure was still half-full, and realized it was empty. It's a feeling of void that only leaves after a few hours, once you have submerged yourself in your work enough to forget about him. Therefore you have grown to passively dislike Sollux Captor, not because of him as a person, but because of the realization that comes with him - the fact that you are already a grown troll, that you are growing old, and that you will grow old alone.

  
    And maybe it's one reason why you adopted Cronus.

  
    Of course, the main reason remains the fact that he is most obviously your descendant. He has your blood, your horns, your face, and his accent is quite similar to yours. He has been with you for more than two sweeps already, which is quite a long time. Now, you don't actually care for trolls older than two sweeps when you kill their lusii. Your job with them is just to catch them and get them back to the jade workers. But Cronus is a whole other deal.

  
    The kid is yours in some way that you can't really explain. It is not too rare in troll society for a troll to meet his ancestor or his descendant; the concept is not unheard of, but strong links or bonds are more rarely created. If a troll meets his descendant, he will most likely just give him some helpful advice and maybe, if he really is willing to do so, entertain a correspondence with him in order to be some kind of faraway mentor who will be supportive from afar and observe the youngster's path in life with benevolence. But adopting your descendant is not a thing that exists. Lusii are made for this.

  
    Except you killed his lusus.

  
    Except you orphaned this troll, and when you went to the little thing to bring him back to the castle, you realized he looked exactly like you.

  
    You never told him you were the one who killed his seahorse dad. You don't know how you could. You just mentioned an Orphaner doing it, and he assumed that it wasn't you, of course. There are so many Orphaners. Maybe that's why he's so wary of your coworkers.

  
    Nepeta Leijon is the one he sees the most often, because she is one you somewhat get along with, in a hate-friendship sort of way. While you mostly work on the beaches and on the sea, Leijon's area of work is closer to the continent, mainly situated in forests and wild plains. Every time she kills a lusus, she will transport the body to you along with the grub, which you will then take in your care. She is another part of the long chain of hands through which the orphaned grubs pass; dumped around until eventually someone accepts them as their own.

  
    You would not have thrown your descendant in this system.

  
    So Cronus stayed with you, and you raised him as if you were his lusus. He occupies the respite block next to yours and will often go out as soon as the sky is dark enough to join his friends. You let him do as he wants; while you are his parental figure, you never tried to press much authority on the kid. That is no way to raise a wriggler. He goes to the city and spends most of his evenings with some other young trolls that you do not know much about. But in the deepest part of the night, he leaves their company to join that of Gamzee Makara.

  
    Makara is not someone you approve of, and you never liked for your 'son' to be around him. The man is a tall, bony freak, and a subjugglator, which isn't a class you have too much respect for. You know children happen to like him; he seems to have a special aura that they appreciate, one of fantasy and secrets. He tells stories, tales long forgotten and some he most likely made up himself. He talks of "miracles" and "magic" and other nonsense that only children and junkies would believe. He owns an antiques shop and once in a while, without apparent planning, and seemingly only when the desire hits him, he will open it and try to sell weird objects to passers-by.

  
    He is also one of the trolls in the city who have frequent contact with their descendant.

  
    Kurloz Makara happens to be one of Cronus's friends, and it is yet another reason for you to be deeply worried about the kid. Kurloz is a talkative, loud, annoying, frenetic troll who has obviously been too deeply immersed in his ancestor's teachings. He paints his face like him, speaks of the "miracle of magic" - or maybe the magic of miracles - like him, and consumes sopor like him.

  
    Of course, you cannot blame anyone for eating sopor. Actually, it's quite a good decision. For naturally violence-inclined highbloods, sopor is sometimes the only way to soothe oneself and to ensure a pacific behavior, another part of the ongoing effort to reduce murder and violence on Beforus to a minimum. And you agree completely with the imperial policy of selling health-safe, filtered sopor in public spaces to make sure that incidents do not happen because a highblood ran out of it. Sopor consumption in itself isn't the problem.

  
    The problem is how the Makaras consume _pure_ sopor.

  
    The Empire's sopor and sopor-derived products are filtered and mixed with other substances, resulting in it being not only safe, but also a lot less strong. It reduces the addiction and the possible side-effects. But Gamzee Makara, and his descendant alike, eats sopor straight out of the recuperacoon, and you really disapprove of Cronus staying around people like this. You have told him, but he refuses to listen. Stubborn brat.

  
    Tonight again he is out in the city, probably with those subjugglators. He made the choice to keep seeing them, so you have no right to forbid him to do it. During the time he is gone, at least, his presence does not disturb your work.

  
    There are currently a dozen of wrigglers under your care. Three of them are pupated already and the elder one will leave you in no time. You plan on bringing him to the jade workers in the next few days. The two others will wait a few more perigrees before you also send them away. For the other nine grubs you take care of, they are still to be here for a sweep or so. You have noticed one of them to have a significant lack of brain-limb coordination, and you sincerely hope that it will go away with time, before you have to deal with Pyrope again.

  
    You take a look at the program for this perigree. On the perigree's first week, there is no killing to be done by you. A lusus corpse will be brought to you by Leijon and, depending on its blood color, you might receive the grub as well. You mostly have highblooded to medium blooded trolls in charge; you range from seadweller, which are given to you in priority because you will be more able to care for them, to green bloods. Lower bloods are taken care of by either landwelling highbloods or medium bloods. There have been a few exceptions - some yellow bloods, even a brown blood or two - but they are rare.

  
    On the second week, you are not of killing duty either, nor are you supposed to get any grub, except if it's a seadweller. It will be a calm week, during which you will not go to the sea to bring a corpse, and your only occupation will be caring for the wrigglers.

  
    On the third week, you are of killing duty. You have to kill one lusus and take the grub with you. If it isn't part of your blood range, you will bring it to another caretaker. Most likely Kanaya Maryam. She is a jade-blood who has refused to be part of the imperial grub care service and instead works independently, raising wrigglers that are either orphaned for the Empire, by an accident, or by lusus abandon. She also localizes children victim of lusus abuse and adopts them. You like her; she is nice and caring, and she always has a can of Tab to offer when you cross the city to bring her a grub on a hot season night.

  
    On the fourth week, you are not of killing duty. Though, you have a meeting at the imperial palace, with Sollux Captor present, to make your perigree's report on the grubs' state. Since you will have to be away for a long while, you will leave the wrigglers to the care of Aradia Megido. The helpful young troll always accepts to take care of them, and while you doubt she has any particular feeling about them, they never seem to have been hurt in her presence, so she is trustworthy.

  
    On the fifth week, you are not of killing duty. You have to collect a lusus corpse from another Orphaner, not Leijon this time, and will bring it to the sea. Again you may be put in charge of the wriggler if it is part of your blood range.

  
    Finally, on the sixth week, you are of killing duty again. You will probably walk through the beaches or sail the sea until you find a lusus that you will execute. This time, the journey to take it to the sea will be shorter, and you will be able to return to your office quickly after you finish this work. You also have a planned appointment with Equius Zahhak, Leijon's moirail.

  
    As the Empire's genius mechanic, he is of course the one to create the most practical tools and furniture for a troll naturally unfit to serve as a lusus to take care of a troll easily. He makes grub parks, wide cages with an open top that are made of silky metal so the grubs cannot climb over them. He also provides you with smaller, wriggler-sized recuperacoons especially made for the grubs to be able to crawl in and out of them easily when you are absent and cannot take care of it yourself. He has made feeding systems that allow you to program automatic releases of food, allowing you to be absent without letting the kids starve. You will have to get another grubcoon if you have gotten more than one wriggler during the perigree; you also need to have your grub cleaning device repaired. The warmth detector has been broken, and the grubs being quite sensible to heat or cold when approaching pupation, you need to make sure they are not in trouble. Having to take their temperature and adjust the water to it isn't very practical. The device doing it by itself was easier.

  
    Fine. It seems like this perigree will not be exceptionally busy. Of course, you could say caring for a dozen of children is always busy, but you only have two kills to make and two corpses to collect, which isn't a lot. It gets harder in the cold season, when more kills are required to keep the Empress's lusus satisfied.

  
    The grubs are starting to nibble at your cape again. You turn your head to see two of them, maybe trying to attract your attention, or, more likely, just appreciating the fabric of your clothes. You bend over to pick them up. You will have to feed them all soon enough. In the grub park, the three toddlers are playing together. Those are more likely to try and stumble out of the room, so you keep them inside when you are not specifically caring for them.

  
    You walk to your cooking block and place the two grubs on the counter before you open the fridge. There are some mashed fruits and vegetables in small boxes. You are running out of it; you will have to go to the market and collect some more. You stack three boxes in the wave oven. Then, you take a deep plate and pour water in it. You add a few pills of grub culinary complements, just to make sure they get all their vitamins, and some drops of lemon juice and sugar so they drink it willingly. You stir the mixture, obtaining a slightly thicker liquid, and place the grubs next to the plate. They immediately start drinking. While they are busy with this, you go to the main block and fetch the rest of the wrigglers; some sit on your shoulders, one decides to place herself between your horns, and the rest crawl and wriggle around in your arms. You all bring them to the cooking block's table, where they circle the plate and start drinking as well.

  
    Now, you go to grab the three toddlers playing together. Two take place in your arms, the third and older one follows you by feet, as he is now able to walk. You strap them to their grub chairs and start feeding them the mashed vegetables.  
    Taking care of all these kids is a tiring, never-ending work. You like it.

  
== >

  
    Sometime around midnight, while all the grubs are in their coons for a short nap, you receive a visitor.

  
    Sollux Captor is about as tall as you are, but much thinner, with a lack of muscle that makes you wonder if he ever even tried to exercise in his whole life. He probably didn't. Considering the fact that he possesses psionic powers, he doesn't need to do much of anything manually. This is probably why he is such an efficient archiver; one who can move the files simply by telekinesis does not waste time climbing ladders and searching around for them. You have seen Captor work in the Imperial Library of Official Documents. Admittedly it is quite an impressive sight, and the ballet of his movements as he grabs for a file coupled with the lightshow of his power is no less than hypnotizing.

  
    He greets you with a simple "Hey" that is nothing close to dignified or respectful enough for someone of your position. You let it slide as you always do. You answer with a "Hello" which is at least a bit more formal. Soon enough he makes his way to your office, without waiting for you to properly welcome him and lead him there. You refrain from sighing.

  
    At least he has the dignity to wait for you to take the files for him, and does not simply take them. He has some manners, just not enough for you. A trait shared by most low bloods, you note. Captor only has this difference that you have frequent interactions with him, which is quite rare. Aradia Megido is your only other low blooded acquaintance. He takes the files and shoves them in his messenger bag, along with what seems to be a mess of paper. How he even finds an organization in this maelstrom is still a mystery to you.

  
    For a reason, you find yourself staring at him, instead of simply bidding him a good night and accompanying him back to the door. He looks back at you, and you want to look away, but you would seem immature. Furthermore you do not have to advert your gaze in front of a yellow-blood.

  
    After a few seconds of intent staring, he speaks aloud.

  
"There a problem, Ampora?"

  
    You hate how he always uses your last name. It isn't dignified. You did not even inform him of your wriggling name - he simply happens to know it, just like you know his, for reasons linked to your common work.

  
"There isn't one, _Archivver_."

  
    You insist on the title to remind him to use yours. But your sentence sounded antagonizing, now. You have to balance it back to a neutral work relationship.

  
"I wwas wwondering if you maybe wwanted a drink. The night is quite wwarm, and it wwould be rude of me to let you go wwithout a refreshment."

  
    He grins at you. He knows fairly well that you do not really care, but are only trying to keep the exchange exempt of any hints of hatred or affection. You are a dignified gentle troll and know exactly how to keep things uncolored with your coworkers.

  
"That'2 appreciiated, _Ampora_. 2ure."

  
    He is unbalancing the exchange again by refusing to use your title. You grit your teeth. By making it slightly hostile again, he is pushing it out of the field of neutrality, and of your comfort zone as well. You have no idea what he is trying to accomplish with this.

  
"Great. Wwhat wwould you like, then?"

  
    You pretend you did not understand his attempts at antagonizing you. His smirk assures you that you do not fool him.

  
"Anythiing you're takiing ii2 fiine wiith me. II'm not two diifiicult."

  
    You refrain from frowning. He is being way too friendly, and your conversation is less and less neutral, slowly sliding into the ways of intimacy; you do not want it to. You regret offering a drink. You lead him to your cooking block nonetheless and open a bottle of Tab for the both of you. With a closer acquaintance you may choose a bottle of soporific beverage, but he is not, and you do not indulge in this kind of drinking during your working hours. Maybe at late time of the nights, when the sun is starting to raise and you close your curtains to protect your eyes from it, you might enjoy a lone glass of soporifics. Not right now, though.

  
    Captor does not seem to mind the lack of class in the beverage you offer him. You doubted he would. He accepts the glass with a thank you and you ignore it with a nod. He sits on a chair, you sit across from him, and you do not look at him while you sip. Soon enough he will be gone and you will return to your usual occupations, with the usual hint of regret and loneliness to make you bitter about his visit.

  
    When you dare look at him for an instant, you realize he is also staring at you.

  
"2o", he starts, and you already know that he is not going to be easy to deal with. He has taken your offer of a drink as a chance to engage in conversation. "How are the grub2 doiing?"

  
"Fairly wwell."

  
    You keep it at that, but he seems to want to insist.

  
"You've got 2ome older one2, riight? Are you gonna giive them away soon?"

  
    You don't like how he talks about the wrigglers.

  
"I do not havve much of a choice. I cannot take care of yet another growwn wwriggler by myself."

  
"Maybe II'd adopt one."

  
    You look up from your glass and raise an eyebrow. His smirk only widens.

  
"What? IIt 2ound2 funny."

  
    How distasteful. You frown and inform him that taking care of the species' young is not meant to be "funny". It is an important, exigent work that requires constant attention and quite the amount of seriousness.

  
"Then you mu2t be pretty busy, huh?"

  
    You just nod and take another sip out of your glass.

  
"Maybe II could come over more often. Help you out with tho2e, why not?"

  
    You sigh. He is trying too hard to make you uncomfortable, knowing fully well that you are to stay calm and composed even when he does.

  
"You already havve wwork to do."

  
"Heh, II'm not that bu2y. II could sacriifiice a few hour2 a niight."

  
    You simply glare at him. You don't think an answer is needed; he is simply being rude.

  
"II'm 2eriiou2, Ampora. It 2ound2 iintere2tiing. More than working at the ca2tle, at lea2t."

  
    Or maybe he isn't. Maybe he really is interesting in being a helping hand. You did not expect it from him; you are almost shocked.

  
"I appreciate the intention, Archivver. If I am evver in need of a grubsitter, I wwill remind your proposition."

  
"Can II see them?"

  
    You're honestly didn't think he was interested in grubs. Sure, he always gives them curious looks when he comes in their waking hours, but everyone does that.

  
"They are currently asleep."

  
    Just as if to unnerve you, you hear squealing coming out of the grub block. Damn it. They are awake.

  
"2ound2 liike they aren't anymore."

  
    You get up to take care of them, and he seems to see it as an invitation to follow you.

  
    Only two of them are up and one has crawled out of his coon. The other's head is just peeking out. You first go for the blue-blood, who is trying to escape the room already. Once you have the little thing picked up and nestled against your chest, you turn around. Captor has grabbed the other grub as she crawled out and is now carefully holding her, looking at her with curiosity and apparent wonder. You want to stop him; you find yourself unable to do it. He seems genuinely interested in her. The wriggler is quite still, not used to this adult yet, but does not seem afraid.

  
"He'2 fuckiing cute."

  
"It's a girl."

  
"2he'2 fuckiing cute."

  
    You nod. Indeed she is.

  
"What'2 her name?"

  
"She does not havve one yet. She wwill in her time inherit the last name of wwhoevver adopts her."

  
"Diidn't you adopt your descendant?"

  
    You did not expect this question. It does not go with the flow of your conversation and it just doesn't sound right. While it isn't really considered a taboo subject, your adoption of Cronus is a topic most seem to try and avoid, as if it was in some way shameful.

  
"I wwas not awware that you knew of this."

  
    He snorts dismiss fully.

  
"Everyone know2. People talked about iit somethiing good when iit happened. Sure they don't do iit anymore, but you can't ju2t expect them two forget."

  
    You suppose he is right. He grins at you.

  
"Where ii2 he?"

  
"Cronus spends most of his time outside of this hivve. He must be in towwn as of noww."

  
"Huh."

  
    Silence stretches between the two of you. You search for words; you come up with none. Eventually, he finds them for you.

  
"2o, what do II do wiith thi2 grub?"

  
"Followw me", you answer, and you direct yourself back to the cooking block.

  
"It's time for their meal. I wwill feed them." And, in a sudden urge of nice feelings, without really knowing why, you add "You may assist if you are interested in doing so."

  
    He smiles again. You place the blue grub down on the table and he does the same with the green one he is holding. You grab a plate, fill it with water, and proceed with the same mixture as you usually do. You add some lusus milk, which thickens the liquid noticeably, and set it down on the table.

  
"2o, what do II do?"

  
"You may hold the grub next to the plate to make sure that she drinks."

  
    He nods and imitates your movements, rather clumsily, you note.

  
"Hold her wwith your fingers under her belly and the thumbs abovve her back. It's the easiest wway."

  
    He adjusts the position of his slim hands over the grub's body; she starts to drink. Moments of silence again, as the both of you hold the grubs to the plate and make them drink their meal. You glance at him; he does not seem to notice it, too busy watching the little wriggler.

  
    You can't help but smile.

  
    When he leaves that day, you feel more bitter than usual.


	2. A Clown's Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lusus is delivered to the sea as planned.  
> The Bard of Rage and his disciples engage in some foolish business.

==>

 

Nepeta Leijon shows up on Wednesday, and she is dragging the corpse of an impressive barkbeast. She is also bringing along a small, indigo-blooded grub. It seems you've got a new charge.

You offer her a drink; she politely declines. She has to hunt for her own food as well tonight, and she wants to visit her moirail. She is quite busy. She hands you the grub and leaves the corpse in front of your hive. She is gone quickly enough, and you are left alone with the wriggler. It seems to be a near newborn one. You absent-mindedly put it down on the cooking block table and feed it drops of lusus milk. It seems like the last of your grubcoons will be used soon; you might have to meet Zahhak earlier than you planned.

Cronus comes back while you are placing the grub in the sopor. He is not as late as you expected him to; it is rare for him to come back before two or three in the morning.

"I'm back!" he shouts, even though you perfectly well heard the door opening and closing. You'd like him not to be so loud when he knows the grubs are napping. You let the indigo wriggler sleep and leave the room.

For Cronus not to be at Makara's place at this hour is rare. He usually listens to his stories and weird theories until the end of the night. Maybe he is finally getting tired of the old junkie's shenanigans.

"I see that you are not wwith the Narrator tonight."

"He's opened his shop tonight, so he can't tell us any stories."

You guess it was too optimist to think he chose not to go by his own will.

"Did you not stay wwith Kankri?"

At least, one of his friends seems nice enough. This Vantas kid is talkative, and he has this weird habit of hiding his blood color, but he seems to be frequentable from what you've heard of him.

"No. He hasn't been around tovwn for a vwhile. I dunno vwhat he's up to."

You nod. You do not ask why he didn't stay with Kurloz, because you do not condone this behavior anyways. You don't really appreciate how both the Makaras keep pushing Cronus further into his weird obsession with magic. You know a child has to have dreams, but he needs to grow up now. He’s almost 6 sweeps old. He’s going to be an adult soon enough.

He insists on going with you to the sea. You let him, because you think for a seadweller, he’s not in the water anywhere near enough.

You lock the grubs in the hive to make sure they won’t go anywhere, even though it’s their nap time anyways, and Cronus and you walk out to the lusus corpse sitting outside your hive. You captchalogue it even though he wants to do it – you don’t trust his sylladex not to throw stuff around – and embark on your boat.

Once you’re alone on the sea, it’s pretty silent. Neither of you talk. The water extends to the horizon and you admire the reflection of the stars in the silk of its surface. The moons are bright tonight; their light washes over you and you feel rather calm. Cronus stands next to you, contemplating as you do the sparks of light on the skin of the waves. You put a hand on his shoulder. He smiles.

You keep watching.

==>

It takes the boat around half an hour to reach the place where you unship the lusus corpses. You watch as the water quickly submerges the body. Cronus stands still; he seems thoughtful. You know what he’s thinking about. You know what this scene reminds him of. You ruffle his hair to make him laugh so he will not think about it anymore. His glasses are tilted comically to the side and he giggles like a child.

You can’t help the sudden rush of affection that washes over you, pushes you over the edge of reason, and lets you find every single reason you adopted him to begin with.

 

==> Be the younger juggalo.

Your name is Kurloz Makara, and you are a bit disgruntled. Your ancestor is not quite available today; he has decided to open his antiques shop he only puts in use about once in a perigree, and therefore, you find yourself rather lonely. Cronus is not here. He said he was going to see his own ancestor. You have little to no other friends; apart from Kankri, who is busy today, and Mituna, who is gone skateboarding, you are alone. So you have offered your help in the shop. Gamzee seems happy about it, but it’s not a lot to say; he’s always happy about everything. The guy is mother fuckin full of joy and miracles. Now you stand in his boutique, cleaning old objects which you doubt actually have any use.

Gamzee is busy with trying to make some ancient mechanic system work. You don’t think anyone is going to buy that stuff anyways, so it’s kind of useless, but you aren’t going to tell him. A few passers-by stop by the shop and look inside, but no one walks in. The candles disposed here and there on the shelves make the whole place look eerie and weird. Gamzee being shirtless does not make it any better; he looks like a freak. You have no idea if he likes being shirtless, or if he just wants to show off his tattoos. They’re pretty cool, you must admit, especially when you know he made them himself – you still aren’t sure how, but it’s probably a miracle. You’d like to have some too, but you’re not sure you want to let him try and draw anything definitive on your skin. He’d probably just space out and make some weird shit on you, like meaningless scribbles or something.

Frankly, the guy is completely irresponsible. You wonder why you even hang around him so much. He clearly isn’t totally in control of himself and he tends to act like a kid at any time of the night. But your lusus is never home, and Gamzee takes care of you as much as he can with all the sopor he eats, so you guess it’s better than nothing. 

You put the strange purple object you were cleaning back on the shelf it belongs on and turn around, only to be met by quite the eerie sight. Gamzee is standing, immobile, staring into nowhere, and with the candles lighting up the place it just makes it all weirder. Damn his spacing out.

You don’t know if it’s a condition, or if he’s just a huge creep, but one way or another it freaks you out. He’s just looking up, at something that’s either the upper part of the wall or the ceiling, and he seems awestruck by whatever he’s seeing. Too much for it to just be another shitty device he had forgotten about. You just know when he does that, he’s seeing something and it’s terrifying.

You walk closer cautiously and wave a hand in front of his eyes. He seems to finally snap out of it and looks at you.  
“What’s it, lil’ motherfucker? There a problem?”

“You were doing that shit again.”

“I was? Aw, sorry, brother, didn’t mean to freak you out or anything. I was just looking at those motherfucking miraculous colors. They’re just so beautiful.”

You don’t bother pointing out that there are no goddamn colors in this place, just old rusty stuff covered in dust. If you did point it out, he’d only tell you about how you can’t see the colors because you’re not mother fuckin buried deep enough in the ass of miracles yet. You’re all about miracles, but he just goes too far with this shit sometimes.

“So, you done with the cleaning, brother?” he asks you.

“Sure mother fuckin am.”

“Great, motherfucker. Let’s get us some lunch since there ain’t a brother stepping inside this store for the moment.”

You nod in agreement and he walks to the back of the shop, pushing a curtain against the wall to get into his hive, just behind it. The shop might be messy, but his hive just is the biggest mass of clusterfuckery you’ve ever seen in your life. Broken detritus from the shop, old antiques he doesn’t sell for one reason or another, religious sculptures he makes out of wood and faithful paintings out of grub sauce. Piles of unrecognizable shit scattered all over the floor; bottles of sopor mixed with unknown substances; remains of food that he will at one point or another consume; tissues soiled with different bodily fluids –blood, saliva, and what you really hope isn’t genetic material; fabric and clothes hanging from different objects; the usual bunch of horns he often steps on noisily. His coon sits in a corner, barely even accessible through all the bullshit he’s left on the floor; behind the masses of unused objects or trash, you can guess the vague forms of shelves that once might have tried to bring some arrangement into this place. Only the middle of the room benefits from a little clear place: he has kept a small circle free of any mess by yet another miracle, and there he sits with you and his other disciples, Cronus included, to tell stories. That’s the only place where the beautiful carpets covering the floor are visible. What a waste, you think. Those carpets really look nice.

He comes back after some time; he somehow managed to retrieve a bottle of Faygo out of this mess, along with a sopor pie. You like your sopor pure, but Gamzee always adds sugar to soften the taste. It’s okay with you; it doesn’t taste too bad to you.

He pushes some shit away from the counter to make place for your bottle and pie, and cuts it in pieces before he sits down on his old wooden chair. You drag a chair closer and sit on it across from him. He offers you a slice of pie, and you take it thankfully, biting a good chunk out of it.

“Heh, ain’t that shit good, motherfucker?” 

You just nod, because your mouth is full, and watch as he grabs the bottle, cracks it open, and takes a long swig out of it. It messes up his paint a bit and you can see his black lips under it where the bottle wiped it off. He puts it down and grins at you.

“Ain’t nothing better than some motherfucking pie and a bottle of wicked elixir.”

You swallow your pie and smirk back at him.

“You mother fuckin bet there ain’t. This shit is full of miracles.”

He gives you a respectful nod and a grunt that’s a bit like his personal “amen to that”.

“Ay motherfucking men, my wicked bro. Want a drink?”

He hands you the bottle and you take it. It’s grape Faygo; your favorite flavor. You wash the sticky aftertaste of the pie with a sip of it, and give him the bottle back. He gives you another slice of pie. You accept it.

 

==> Be the younger seadweller.

Your name is Cronus Ampora, and you’re a bit bored again. Your ancestor is busy with his grubs – they just woke up and he has to feed them – and Gamzee has opened his antique shop today, which leaves you without much company at all. Maybe you should go there, see what stuff he’s selling. There’s never anything interesting there, but you can still get a look at it. Maybe you’ll see cool stuff. There are often those old-ass mechanisms that don’t always work with totally unknown purposes, and it’s honestly pretty cool.

“I’m leavwing!” you shout, and he says something from the kitchen but you don’t hear it. It’s probably the same stuff as usual: ‘don’t come back too late’, ‘be careful of the sunrise’, ‘don’t eat this wweird sopor from Makara’, etcetera.

You close the door of the hive behind you. You noticed there’s some blood on the floor in front of it, indigo blood. It   
comes from the lusus the two of you got to the sea earlier. It makes you feel weird. You decide to ignore it and step over the stains as you walk away.

Kurloz and Gamzee are both at the shop when you come in. They’re drinking this Faygo of theirs and eating this weird sopor pie Gamzee makes. Ew.

“Hey there, motherfucker!” Gamzee greets you, just as excited to see you as he always is. He’s always excited about seeing anyone.

“There you are, brother”, Kurloz says, and he grins at you.

You give them a wave. Gamzee idly waves back to you, even though he already said hi. Kurloz just smiles a bit wider.

“My ancestor’s busy”, you inform them, “so I thought I’d pass by.”

“Great idea, motherfucking bro of mine. Want some pie?”

You decline the Narrator’s offer.

“Guess I’ll close the shop if another motherfucker is joining us. There ain’t been a single brother walking in since I opened anyway.”

“No need to close the shop for me.”

He insists, and walks to the door to turn the little “OPEN/CLOSED” sign to CLOSED. Kurloz seems rather happy about this. You guess he, too, was waiting for Gamzee to close. You’re always excited about his stories – especially if it’s just the two of you   
listening to them. 

You follow him to the mess he dares calls a hive and he sits down in the middle of the room, on some kind of barrel that he uses as a seat. You settle down with Kurloz on the circle of clean space that magically still exists here and both of you look up at Gamzee expectantly. 

“So”, he commences solemnly. “There was once a time where Beforus was a land of dust and dirt and virgin lands that no hand had ever touched…”


	3. A Matter of Bloods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A child is taken from his own.  
> Perfection of a system is doubted by the many

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, I had some computer troubles. But here it is now.

==>  
“Kankri’s being culled”, Mituna says.  
    You don’t understand. What does he mean, being culled? Is this some sort of sick joke?  
“No”, he tells you. “They found out his blood color, he’s a mutant.”  
    You sit down. Kurloz stares at Mituna as if he couldn’t understand what that meant.  
“That’s some mother fuckin bullshit. Where did you hear that?”  
“His mother.”  
    Oh.  
    If Kanaya said it, then it’s got to be true. It’s incredible they managed to take her adopted kid; you’d think they’d have been cut in half quite quickly.  
“How is she?” Kurloz asks.  
“Devastated, of course. She gave all her grubs to another caretaker, she can’t deal right now. Plus, she has a broken arm.”  
    You raise from your chair with a loud “what?” Mituna looks at you as if you were completely stupid.  
“A broken arm. Of course she’s hurt, do you really think she’d let them take Kankri without a fight?”  
    You sit back down. You don’t know what to say. Why would the Empire do that? Even if Kankri’s a mutant, he was always a capable kid. There’s no reason for him to be culled. He’s not a danger to himself.  
“Where did they mother fuckin send him?”  
“I dunno”, Mituna shrugs. “To some highblood. Outta town, I heard.”  
“What about Porrim?”  
    Mituna frowns, crosses his arms.  
“She’s not right, of course. She’s worrying herself sick. She wasn’t there when he was taken, but she came to see him, and guess what she found…”  
    You can easily guess what she found. Her devastated ancestor, probably crying, with a broken arm. Traces of a fight. Terrified wrigglers hiding under a chair or a table.  
“That’s bullshit.”  
“I know it’s bullshit!” Mituna shouts. He seems just as frustrated and angry as you are. “Do you think I’m stupid or something? We can’t do much about it!!”  
You don’t know what to say. Of course you can’t do anything; you’re 6 sweeps old. Even if you’re a highblood, you’ve got little to no power. You uncaptchalogue your husktop.  
  
  -- cataclysmicArrival [CA] began trolling courteousGavage [CG] --  
CA: kankri  
CA: are you here  
CA: please ansvwer  
 -- courteousGavage [CG] is now an idle troll! --  
CA: oh come on  
CA: thats bullshit  
CA: they cant havwe taken your husktop too  
CA: right  
\-- courteousGavage [CG] is now an idle troll! --  
CA: i cant believe this shit  
 -- courteousGavage [CG] is now an idle troll! --  
 -- cataclysmicArrival [CA] gave up trolling courteousGavage [CG] --  
  
“Don’t you think I’ve already tried?”  
    Of course Mituna already tried. You just kind of hoped for some miracle. But it seems today isn’t the day for miracles.  
  
==> Be the Orphaner.  
Your name is Eridan Ampora, and you don’t know what to do. Cronus seems inconsolable. His friend, the Vantas kid, is being culled. You can’t believe something like that would happen to Kanaya’s wriggler. You’ve tried to request him as a cullee, but you were deemed unpractical because you’re a seadweller. They gave him to a landwelling highblood. What kind of bullshit is that?  
  
\-- caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling grimAuxiliatrix[GA] --  
CA: kanaya  
CA: are you alright  
GA: Yes Of Curse  
GA: Kankri Has Jyst Beeb Taken Away By Somr Odioys Highblood  
GA: How Coulf I Nt Be Fine  
CA: wwoww  
CA: your quirk is wweird  
CA: wwhats goin on  
GA: My Arm Has Benn Briken  
GA: Typing With One hand is Surpridsingly Difficult  
CA: oh my god  
CA: they broke your arm  
GA: Yes that Is A Thing Thqt Happened  
CA: oh my god  
GA: im comin  
GA: No Need Fpr that  
CA: of course theres need for that  
CA: kan they broke your arm  
CA: you could sue them right  
GA: No I Am Tge One Who foughtt Them  
CA: shit  
CA: im comin over ill fix you  
GA: Porrmi Is Alredady Tending At My Arm  
GA: ill Be Alright  
CA: thats crazy  
CA: fuck  
CA: cant Zahhak request him  
CA: hes a landwweller  
CA: it should be okay for him right  
GA: Do Nit Be Silly Eridan  
GA: He would Kill Him Just by Touchin Him  
GA: They KnowThat  
CA: shit  
CA: wwhat can i do  
GA: Nohing  
CA: shit  
GA: How Is Crornus  
CA: hes traumatized i think  
CA: might be cryin  
CA: he locked himself in his room  
GA: Go Takee Care Of Him  
CA: wwhat  
CA: but youre in trouble  
GA: Eridan Go Tak Care Of Your Son  
CA: …  
CA: alright  
CA: ill contact vvriska to see if she can request him  
GA: I Already Did  
GA: She is Idle  
CA: goddamn  
CA: ugh  
CA: alright im goin to see cronus  
GA: Good  
\-- caligulasAquarium [CA] gave up trolling grimAuxiliatrix[GA] --  
  
    You captchalogue your husktop and get up; you walk to Cronus’s room. He’s sitting on the floor, against his recuperacoon, and holding his head with both hands. His glasses are on the floor next to him and he’s taken his cape off.  
“Cronus?” you call him. He raises his head slightly.  
“I talked to Kanaya. She’s alright. Vvriska is goin to request Kankri.”  
    You see some hope appear in his face, and you wonder if this little lie was a good or a bad idea. What if Vriska doesn’t request him…? But she will. She’ll do it for Kanaya.  
“They’re not gonna hurt him, right?”  
    You raise an eyebrow. Who could have given him such an idea?  
“Course not, Cro. You knoww wwhat cullin is about. They’re not gonna hurt anybody.”  
“Mituna says they could hurt him…”  
    You frown. Of course such things have happened in the past – it’s always a danger with highbloods – but it’s not supposed to be. And people aren’t supposed to talk about it either. It’s kind of illegal.  
“Listen, I’m gonna talk to Feferi. I’ll tell her to check wwho he’s wwith.”  
  
\-- caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling cuttlefishCuller [CC] --  
CA: fef  
CA: i need your help  
\-- cuttlefishCuller [CC] is now an idle troll! --  
CA: shit  
\-- cuttlefishCuller [CC] is now an idle troll! --  
\-- caligulasAquarium [CA] gave up trolling cuttlefishCuller [CC] --

  
    Fuck.  
  
==>  Be the hunter troll  
You attempt to be the hunter troll to no avail. While the hunter troll is not currently dead or unconscious, she is too busy for you to be her. She has better things to do than let people be her when she is trying to do her job. Maybe if you were a sweaty blue-blood who she somehow has chosen as her moirail, you would be able to bother her in her times of work; but her schedule is too busy for someone like you right now.  
  
==> Be the future hunter troll  
The hunter troll is available a few hours in the future; her hunt is now finished, and she is dragging the corpse back to her hive. You are now able to be her.

  
    Your name is Nepeta Leijon, and really, this beast is heavy! It’s really huge and you wonder why you don’t just captchalogue it, instead of dragging it along like this. It’s pouring blood all over your back, but that’s alright; you’re not disgusted by blood. You always do some pretty nice art with it – that’s usually a subjugglator thing, but you don’t really care.  
    Someone is trying to contact you, but you can’t answer right now. You’ll see what it’s about once you’re back in your cave.  
    It is already in sight, anyways; you hurry on the last meters until you can finally enter its cool darkness, protecting you from the glow of the moons and the heat of the season. You drop the lusus near the entrance and uncaptchalogue a dagger. Time for lunch! You open the creature’s stomach easily; the strong muscles of your arms are used to this time of exercise. Its entrails fall to the ground, disgusting, smelly, and oh so appetizing. You lick your lips.  
    But first of all, you must answer your messages: this could be your moirail.  
  
\-- caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling arsenicCatnip [AC] –  
CA: nep  
CA: are you here  
AC: :33< *ac jumps towards the fishy troll and asks what the fickle furrackle he could possibly want now*  
CA: oh thank god youre here  
CA: at least someone is  
CA: ivve been tryin to contact so many people and only kan is answerin  
AC: :33< *ac asks that ca states his business already beclaws she was just about to get her delicious cat meal*  
CA: its really important okay  
CA: can wwe not be rpin right now  
CA: its really not the time for that  
AC: :33< whats the deal ampurra  
CA: remember kankri  
AC: :33< thats kanayas kitten right  
CA: dont call him a kitten please dont do that right noww  
CA: this is important for real they found out his blood color  
AC: :33< *ac wonders if the silly seadweller is making a huge deal out of kankitty being a highblood too*  
CA: no thats not the deal shut up  
CA: you knoww im not like that  
CA: hes a mutant  
AC: :OO<  
CA: yeah i knoww  
CA: and thats not all  
CA: hes being culled  
CA: they broke kans fuckin arm  
AC: :OO<  
CA: stop that  
CA: youre friends wwith pyrope right  
AC: :33< yes we are good acatances  
CA: please that pun wwas wweak as fuck and wwe really dont need any a those right now  
AC: :33< *ca says while he keeps typing with his ridiculous accent*  
CA: alright im stoppin lets just focus on the matter at hand will you  
CA: see i didn’t do it  
CA: pyrope  
CA: she knows how to find vris  
CA: right  
AC: :33< i think she might know that  
AC: :33< theyre still pretty tangled even with the whole stuff that happened between them  
CA: great  
CA: listen i cant talk to her myself ok we both know its just gonna end up in her trying to talk to me about why culling his bad  
CA: and shes just going to try and ask why now im not okay with it when i let all those wrigglers be culled and blah blah  
CA: im never gonna hear the end of it and its just gonna be embarrassing  
CA: can you ask her to find vris for me  
AC: :33< yes but why  
CA: vris is a highblood remember  
CA: technically not a seadwelling one  
AC: :33< oh i get it  
AC: :33< alright ill do that right now  
CA: great thanks  
\-- caligulasAquarium [CA] gave up trolling arsenicCatnip [AC] –  
  
Sounds like your friends got themselves in trouble again, and they need the hand of the law to assist them, or some shit like that. If you ask Vriska to request Kanaya’s grub, and if Terezi assists the case, it shouldn’t be too hard to get it done. You open a new conversation window.  
  
\-- arsenicCatnip [AC] began trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC] –  
AC: :33< *ac pounces on the attorney and tackles her to the ground with a distressed purr*  
AC: :33< we n33d help  
GC: NOW TH4TS 4 W31RD R3QU3ST COM1NG FROM YOU  
GC: TH3 L1ON3SS DO3SNT OFT3N N33D H3LP  
GC: 3V3N FROM 4 DR4GON  
GC: 1S YOUR WR1GGL3R B31NG UNF41RLY CULL3D?  
GC: 1 4M YOUR TROLL  
GC: 1 4M T4K1NG TH3 C4S3  
AC: :33 < no but almost  
AC: :33 < i dont raise wrigglers its kanayas  
AC: :33 < and uh its not exactly a wriggler hes kind of grown now  
AC: :33 < remember kankri  
GC: G4SP!!!!  
GC: TH3YR3 CULL1NG K4NKR1?  
GC: ON WH4T B4S3???  
GC: H3 S33M3D F1N3 L4ST T1M3 1 H34RD 4BOUT H1M  
AC: :33 < hes a mutant  
GC: OH  
GC: 1 W1LL B3 F1GHT1NG H1S C4S3 YOU C4N COUNT ON M3  
GC: JUST YOU W41T 4 F3W P3R1GR33S 4ND 1 W1LL H4V3 H1M HOM3  
AC: :33 < actually we need you to join vriskers  
AC: :33 < she can request him and with your assistance shell get him easily  
AC: :33 < then shell give him back to Kanaya  
GC: OH  
GC: TH1S 1SNT 4S FUN BUT FOR TH3 S4K3 OF 4 FR13ND 1 W1LL DO 1T  
AC: :33 < pawesome  
AC: :33 < do you know where she is  
GC: DO NOT WORRY 4BOUT TH4T K1TT3N!!!  
GC: 1 KNOW HOW TO CONT4CT MY F4T3D K1SM3S1S SHOULD 1 N33D TO  
AC: :33 < thanks  
\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] gave up trolling arsenicCatnip [AC] –  
  
You sure do hope that this will be enough… You inform Eridan of your success, then finally, you take out your claws. Time to eat your meal.


End file.
